by Holly Jacobs
Carly gave her kids a look that Chuck recognized. His own mother had given it to him. It was a warm, mushy sort of look that spoke of pride and, more importantly, it spoke of love.
“We put everything away, Mom.” Carly’s daughter said.
“And by ‘put away,’ you mean you’ve hung up all the clean clothes, and put all the dirty ones in the hamper?”
“Nah,” her son said. “We shoved our bags in our closets and closed the door.”
When Carly shot him a look he laughed. “Hey, you say you like it when I’m honest.”
She shook her head and tried to seem stern, but Chuck could see her amusement creeping around the edges of her expression. “Well, Lieutenant, are we ready for dinner?”
“You can call me Chuck,” he said. “The only people who really call me Lieutenant Jefferson are the reporters. Everyone else just calls me Chuck.”
Both kids looked to Carly for permission and she gave the slightest nod.
“Chuck,” Sean said, trying his first name on for size. “So you’re really a cop?”
“Yes. I have the badge and everything to prove it.”
“And do you get to ride in a police car with all the lights and sirens going and chase people around the city? And when you catch them, do you say, ‘Stop, I’m a cop’ and then throw them against a car, pat them down and handcuff them?”
“Mainly these days, I’m in the office. I drive a police car, but it looks like a regular car. And even when I was on the street, I didn’t throw people against anything.” When the boy looked disappointed, he added, “But I did pat them down and handcuff them, and my car does have a radio, lights and sirens, too. It’s just that if it looks like a regular car, no one knows I’m a cop until it’s too late.”
That seemed to help his image in Sean’s eyes. “Wow. Do you think sometime…” Sean hesitated.
“Sometime?” Chuck prompted.
“Well, I’m not supposed to invite myself anywhere, ’cause it’s rude, but maybe if you came over, and drove your police car you’d let me sit in it and show me how things work?”
“Sure.” He glanced at Carly who was frowning. “Hey, he didn’t invite himself anywhere. He asked to sit in it if I was here, and that would probably involve me inviting myself over to your house, so I’d be rude, not Sean.”
“That’s convoluted logic,” Carly said, but she laughed and Sean gave Chuck a grateful look.
“And yes, I suppose that would be fine as long as it’s okay with your mother.”
“Oh, Mom will let me. She believes in letting us check things out, right Rhi?”
The girl nodded.
“Hi, Rhiana. Nice to meet you, too.” Both kids were almost as tall as Carly, and though Chuck would never mention it to her, they’d probably both surpass her height soon.
The thing was, he rarely noticed how tiny Carly truly was. Five three, tops.
Maybe he didn’t notice because Carly seemed to live life with gusto. And when you lived life in such a big way, things like height weren’t always apparent.
“Your mom and I were working on the safety stuff and I invited all of you out to dinner, if you don’t mind eating with a cop.”
“Mind?” Sean said. “You can tell me all sorts of gruesome stories about being on the street. I watch Law and Order and CSI, so I know it’s bad.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but real-life police work isn’t quite what it’s like on television.” Again the boy looked disappointed. And given the kid’s day, Chuck wasn’t about to let that stand. “Wait though, I bet I can think of a couple stories you might enjoy.”
He turned to the quieter Rhiana. “You don’t mind?”
“No. Maybe I want to be a cop, too.”
“Girls can’t be cops,” Sean said with a brotherly scoff that Chuck recognized. He’d made that same sort of comment to Julia. And he was hit with a sudden feeling of loss over his sister. Sometimes the slightest thing would make him think of her and the ache would start. It made him feel for Anderson and made him wonder how his brother-in-law was ever going to recover from the pain.
“Girls can too be cops,” Rhiana argued. “I mean, there’s that girl cop on Law and Order SVU. She’s tough. Right Chuck?”
He nodded. “Right. Some of our best officers are women.”
“See, stupid,” Rhiana said to her brother.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Carly intervened. “Sean, your sister can be anything she wants to be, just like you. Gender doesn’t matter.”
“I know something she can’t be.” Sean grinned.
Chuck didn’t guess and ruin Sean’s moment, but he knew what the boy was going to say. He remembered using the same argument with Julia.
“There’s nothing I can’t be,” Rhiana said.
“You can’t be a father.” Sean doubled over, laughing at his retort.
“Who’d want to be?” Rhiana replied without a hint of laughter in her voice. “Our father sucks. I’d rather be like Mom, ’cause she doesn’t suck at all, even if she makes me do my own laundry.”
“Whoa,” Carly said. “Stupid and suck are on the don’t-say list. Talking badly about your Dad is there, too, just in case I haven’t made that clear enough.”
“But Mom,” Rhiana said, a stubborn look on her face. “He does s—stink. He’s not going to see us, and he’s not going to miss us. You miss us when we’re gone. You call every day when we’re gone for just a weekend.”
“He won’t even call us once,” Sean added.
“We can’t control your father’s actions. We can’t control anyone’s actions but our own, and the three of us are going to be kind, not use nasty language—”
“And go out to dinner with me,” Chuck filled in. “Come on.”
He piled everyone into his car and drove to Valerio’s. “It’s one of Mom and Dad’s favorite restaurants. Personally, I love their pasta,” he said as they found a table in the dining room.
He’d taken women out in the past, but sitting at a table for four, with two kids, was different.
Sean and Rhiana carried the conversation, talking about almost everything but their father.
He learned about the school’s science fair. Rhiana was experimenting with plants and music to see if there was any difference in the growth rates of plants exposed to music. Sean was testing the heat output he could achieve with different lighting sources and a magnifying glass. Different watt light bulbs, the sun, a full moon. “I started a fire once,” he proclaimed proudly.
“Just smoldering, actually,” Carly clarified.
Chuck leaned over to her and said, “I guess the firebug doesn’t fall far from the accidental arsonist’s tree.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he worried she’d take offense, but she’d laughed.
Somewhere around the time of his last meatball, Chuck admitted how much he was enjoying the meal. He liked Carly’s kids. They were polite…well, to a point. Sean’s belch was probably less than acceptable in polite society, but Chuck had earned a few points when he winked at the boy and murmured, “Impressive,” while Carly and Rhiana both let out a well-timed, “Gross.”
“Dessert?” Chuck asked, wanting to prolong the meal.
“Yes,” the kids answered in unison.
Carly checked her watch. “It is Sunday—a school night, and I know that Rhiana and Sean have homework that I’d be willing to lay odds they haven’t finished.”
Chuck didn’t need Carly to fill in that her ex probably hadn’t even bothered to ask, let alone encourage the kids to do that homework.
“Only a little,” Sean wheedled.
“Not much at all,” Rhiana agreed.
“And I’m pretty sure they have a mean chocolate sundae on the menu.” He suspected that Carly had been offering him a way out. He could see it in her eyes. At his response, she smiled, and for some reason, Chuck felt as if he’d won something, though he wasn’t quite sure what.
“Well, what woman can resist a cho
colate sundae?” she asked. “But when we get home, all homework will be done immediately, before family game night.”
Both her kids promised. Chucked flagged down the waitress and ordered four.
He picked the conversation back up where they’d left it. “Family game night?”
“It’s—”
“Chuck,” someone called from the entryway into the dining room.
“Mom, Dad.” He saw the gleam in his mother’s eye—that certain matchmaking gleam he’d seen before—and he suppressed a groan. Not because that gleam wasn’t groan-worthy, but because he was aware of Carly’s kids sitting at the table, and knew groaning at his parents’ appearance wouldn’t be setting a very good example.
“Why, Chuck and Carly,” his mother practically cooed. “Fancy meeting you here. And these must be your children, Carly?”
“Sean and Rhiana, these are Chuck’s parents. Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson.”
“Hi,” both of the kids chimed.
“It’s so nice to meet you both,” Linda Jefferson said, the gleam in her eye even more pronounced. “And now I see why you canceled our family Sunday dinner, Chuck. You know, it’s not even the end of January yet. You’re not starting this new family tradition off very well. Next Sunday, bring Carly and the children.”
“Really, Mrs. Jefferson, that’s not necessary,” Carly said.
“Of course, it’s not. But I’d really enjoy the company of two other women.”
Chuck watched Rhiana preen as she realized she’d been included as one of the women his mother was talking about.
“Frankly,” his mother continued as she elbowed his dad, “my husband, Chuck and Anderson are less than companionable. They basically inhale their food then hurry off to watch whatever sport is available. Any sport. Even if they don’t like that particular sport.”
“Hey, there’s no such thing as a sport a real man doesn’t like,” his father said.
Chuck added, “And we all have very good table manners.” He realized he should probably try to save Carly. She was shooting him those help-get-me-out-of-this looks, but he ignored them.
He knew he’d really like an excuse to see Carly next weekend. They only had the two safety-program dates this week and then she’d be done with her community service. He’d already guaranteed that he’d see her at the Valentine’s dance, and with his mother’s help, he’d have next weekend locked in as well.
“You should see Sean eat.” Rhiana pointed at her brother. “He’s just gross. He even talks with his mouth full, and that’s really gross.”
“That’s a lot of grosses,” his dad said.
“He deserves them. And probably more.” Rhiana turned to her mother. “So can we go, Mom? It’s not like Dad’s going to be taking us.”
Carly shot Chuck one last look, which he again ignored.
She must have given up because she smiled and said, “Sure, we’d love to. And we’ll bring the dessert, Mrs. Jefferson.”
“Call me Linda,” she corrected. “And that’s very sweet of you and would be lovely. None of the men in my life ever offer to help cook.”
Chuck’s dad laughed. “As if you’d let us in your kitchen. I think she tried to teach Chuck to cook—”
“I did,” his mother said with a sniff. “And to this day I’ve never figured out how he could mess up boxed macaroni and cheese.”
“Too much milk,” Chuck admitted. “I read one and one-fourth, not one-fourth. It was soup.”
“Well, here comes a waitress with sundaes. We’ll let you finish your meal. See you next week.” His parents retreated to a table on the other side of the small dining room.
A table that was directly in Chuck’s line of sight. He couldn’t help but notice his mother’s animated excitement as she talked to his dad, probably about him and Carly.
The waitress passed out the sundaes.
Rhiana took a bite, then said, “Your mom’s nice, Chuck. Your kids are lucky. I bet she’s the kind of grandma who takes them to Waldemeer and the beach. I bet she even takes them to the mall and lets them buy whatever they want.”
“Rhiana, Mrs. Jefferson’s not a grandmother,” Carly told her daughter softly.
Chuck could tell by her tone that Carly remembered that his sister had been trying to have a baby when she’d found out about the cancer. She gave him a look of sympathy. Not pity; a quiet understanding.
He mouthed the word, thanks, then turned to Rhiana. “Nope, no kids for me. No wife either.”
“Well, your mom will be a good grandma. I can tell. Me and Sean don’t have a grandma—”
“Your father’s mother is very much alive and well, so you do.”
“She lives all the way in Cleveland. We don’t get to do stuff with her usually,” Sean said. “Dad was supposed to take us to see her for her birthday, but he went out with his girlfriend instead. So, Mom called her and took us to meet her in Mentor for lunch.”
“And Grandma doesn’t even like Mom,” Rhiana added. “She says it’s Mom’s fault that Mom and Dad got divorced. That’s not fair, although Mom says it doesn’t matter what other people think.”
“Yeah. She says it takes two people to make a marriage work, and it takes two to make it fail. But we know it was Dad.”
“Kids, we’ve had this talk. I won’t allow you to blame your father. When you’re older you’ll understand…well, at least understand better. Relationships, for good or for bad, do take two people.”
“We know.” Sean sounded less than convinced.
Chuck was aware of how badly Carly had been hurt, but to hear her defend her ex and try to reassure her kids…well, his respect for her continued to grow the more he knew her. “That was nice that your mom took you to see your grandmother for her birthday.”
“It was,” Rhiana agreed. “Mom told us she was going to study and sit at another table, saying Grandma would probably want some time with us.”
“But it was really that Grandma doesn’t like her much since the divorce.”
“Hey, hey, time out,” Carly cried. “A—Your grandmother does like me, and I like her.”
Sean snorted.
“B—I really do need to study for my boards. And C—There is no blame for the divorce. Sometimes these things happen.”
Both kids snorted this time, and Chuck could see a disagreement brewing, so he stepped in. “I’m sure your grandmother would love spending more time with you, but Cleveland’s a long drive, especially in the winter.”
“Maybe. But people have to love their grandchildren. And loving’s not the same as liking. For sure your mom will like her grandkids someday.” There was a wistfulness in Rhiana’s tone.
So Chuck didn’t assure her his mother would absolutely like her grandchildren and spoil them rotten. He wanted to do something to take away some of the sting of a grandmother who made her dislike of their mother so readily apparent, and a father who was content not to see the kids for an extended period of time. “Hey, Carly. I know they have homework, but maybe before I take you all home we can stop at my house for a minute.”
“For what?”
“My city car’s a take-home, so it’s sitting in my driveway. I thought the kids might like a tour of the inside.”
Thank you, she mouthed, and aloud said, “Well, if they eat their sundaes quickly and swear they’ll finish their homework immediately after we walk in the door—”
“Sure,” they both said, and Sean started eating his sundae at a very unsavory rate.
“Oh, Mom, you should know better than telling Sean to hurry,” Rhiana moaned.
Chuck watched them with amusement, and caught his mother watching him from across the dining room. She had a huge smile and that knowing-mom look that so frequently drove him crazy.
What on earth had he started?
Chapter Nine
Carly didn’t mind freezing in Chuck’s snowy driveway, because it was obvious that Sean and Rhiana were thrilled not only with their police-car tour, but with the attention Chuck
was lavishing on them as he answered all their questions.
Questions that continued on the drive back to their house.
“…and when you arrest someone, do you ever fingerprint them yourself?” Sean continued.
“Yes, I’ve fingerprinted them.”
“Maybe, sometime, you could teach me how? I mean, I can buy an inkpad with my own money,” he added hastily, glancing at Carly. “And if you showed me, I could practice for when I’m older and a cop.”
Carly wondered if Sean had been thinking about it for a while, or if Chuck had inspired the new interest.
“I can definitely show you how to fingerprint someone. You know, there’s a summer camp that the State Police put on every year, if you’re really interested. I’m not sure how old you have to be to go, but I could find out.”
“Oh, man that would be cool. Wouldn’t it, Mom?”
“Yes, Sean, that would be cool. Please don’t get too excited until we have more facts.”
“Sure, Mom. I won’t get too excited.” They pulled into her driveway and all piled out of the car.
Carly fished around in her purse for her keys. She knew that Sean might have agreed not to get too excited, but too excited had already come and gone. The last time Sean had been this enthused about a subject was last summer when he was considering a career in marine biology. Carly could still recite the differences between toothed whales and baleen whales. Before this new interest ended, she’d probably know more about police work than she’d ever imagined.
“Hey, Chuck, do you think maybe you could bring your handcuffs over next time you come?” Sean asked as she herded them into the house and flipped on the hall light.
Chuck laughed. “Maybe I could.”
Having Chuck and Sean talk about the next time they got together made Carly feel nervous. “Okay, kids. Coats and boots off. Rumor has it that your weekend bags are stuffed in closets, so they still need to be unpacked. Any dirty clothes need to be taken to the laundry room. Then homework. If you get it done in time, game night. If not…” She purposely left the end of the sentence hanging. She’d discovered an unknown threat was so much better than a real and concrete one.